chickens clucking, and a woodpecker on an oak tree.
Dear Louie outdid himself this time. The enlarged barn has a back door, two new windows (with screens!), a 12-foot trough feeder, and packed dirt floor in the addition. It looks beautiful. And... I can walk now - reasonably well. So I can take care of them. I would never have thought that an ankle fracture would take over two months to heal.
Yesterday we went to Roberta's with the truck fitted out with a portable cage that we fashioned from hog panels, walked into the barn where the sheep had been staying, and quickly realized there was no way to back the truck in without letting the lambs run out. So Roberta and a neighbor came to help block and tackle. Matilda got lifted into the cage first, looking horrified at this insult to her dignity, then Marsha went into her peaceful resistance / unresponsive lump routine when it was her turn. Try to pick up a full grown sheep who turns into a non-violent resistor! Once we had the moms in the cage, the lambs wanted to get on board, and managed to arrange themselves by their own moms and settled in.
Off we drove, up the winding Brier Hill Road, me following Louie and the truck in my car. A couple of times Louie almost went off the road. Later I found out that, each time, one of the ewes had turned her rear end right to the truck's sideview mirror ( did they know?!), lifted her short little tail, and had a nice poop. ("You caught me by the horns and put me in this cage?? Fine! Take this, buddy!") And Louie, watching this with fascination (sheep pellets are kind of intriguing), just about crashed the truck.
We settled them in their new place without a hitch, and this morning they are out on pasture. The little ones are frolicking and eating grass, and marveling that the barn where they were born was not the sum total of the universe. All is well, and I am grateful for all the help and Grace that made this glorious green morning possible. This afternoon we go to the movies after non-stop work for I don't know how long.